


midnight, the stars, and you

by iihappydaysii



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Archaeology, Dildos, Explicit Sexual Content, Historical, LMAO, M/M, Sex Toys, unethical behavior as an archaeology student, unusual sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: It's 1936 and Dan is an archaeology student relegated to examining strange rocks found at an excavation site in the basement of a museum where he finds a stone age dildo.





	midnight, the stars, and you

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from the old Al Bowlly song I was listening to the whole time i wrote this so I could immerse myself in the era and the shitty radio Dan was stuck listening to (you'll see lol). another weird idea from me, i guess lol.

Dan had a headache. He’d been staring all day at the collection of rocks that had come to the museum from his university’s latest archaeological dig. With a dull pencil, he was scribbling observations into a journal. He’d had no entertainment for the last fourteen hours other than a radio station that was half static, half Al Bowlly—Dan least’s favorite jazz singer. He preferred Leslie Hutchinson, but it was much less common to hear him played on the radio.

At least, the electric fan was working today—unlike yesterday. Its slowly spinning blades brought some air circulation into this dark, humid room, tucked away from windows and sunlight beneath the museum. The environment was intended to protect the artifacts being shipped here from the excavations scattered across the British empire, but it had the exact opposite effect on Dan.

When he’d chosen this field of study in school, he’d been swept away in the romantic notion of travel to exotic locals. He might have actually been able to realize some of those dreams, if he hadn’t spent half of last year wrapped up in a doomed (he now realized) love affair with his university professor’s (gorgeous, tall _, big-mouthed_ ) son. Now, while the rest of his class was off on exciting adventures, Dan was relegated here—to another goddamn Al Bowlly song on the radio and this worthless box of rocks.

Dan leaned over in the squeaky chair he’d been sitting in all day to reach into the box again. He needed to use some of that olive oil from his dinner salad to loosen the screws so the chair would stop making that horrible noise every time he moved, but he still had at least another hour or two of work here and couldn’t be bothered.

In the box, Dan’s hand wrapped around a long, thick rock, smoother than any of the others he’d examined so far. He drew in a sharp breath when he pulled it up onto the desk and got a better look. It wasn’t just long and thick. It was positively _phallic._ It even had detail at one end, carvings like the tip of a cock where the foreskin had been tugged back and it was flared out at the other end. Dan grabbed his ruler and measured its length. Eight inches. Then, he measured the girth—five and half inches.

That was… impressive.

Dan had never taken a ruler to his own, but it definitely wasn’t _that_ big, and neither were any of the other men Dan had been with, though the professor’s son had likely been the closest… God, it had been a long time since he’d had sex, even longer since he’d had sex with a man, and even longer than that still, since he’d had something inside him.

As he was sitting there, in that squeaky chair, listening to Al Bowlly, yet _the fuck_ again, holding a phallic artifact in his hand, he couldn’t help but think about it. Couldn’t help but think about how good it had felt to be stretched opened, to be rubbed in a spot so rarely touched that made his whole body spark up like flicked ash from a cigarette.

Dan licked his lips as he slid his hand, up and down the stone shaft. It was hard not to imagine this delicious thing on some dark-haired man whose lips and eyes and everything were just as delicious. Dan shut his eyes. Still Al Bowlly on the radio, but he felt as if he were growing accustomed to it. That or thoughts of cock—and one this nice—were softening his bristled edges.

It was just so smooth, so nice and thick… and Dan still had an old condom in his wallet, from that weekend in Berlin. It was nearly midnight… no one else would be here until early morning… he was perfectly alone.

_Fuck it._

Dan pulled the condom out of his wallet and, as he slipped it down over the stone cock, he thought—early paleolithic, most likely. This was almost certainly carved all the way back when all else we had to show for human ingenuity were clothes, beads, weapons and, of course, fire.

Dan was starting to feel the fire right now, that heat between his legs.

He rubbed himself through his trousers, then spit on the tip of the carved rock. With nothing but spit, this would ache… a lot, but it had been long enough and he was desperate enough… but then, thankfully, Dan remembered the small bottle of olive oil he’d used on his salad that was sat behind the radio. He drizzled some on his hand then rubbed it over the latex, feeling the intense hardness beneath his touch.

With his free hand, Dan unhooked his belt, unbuttoned his trouser and tugged them with his pants down, letting them fall around his knees. He used a few oiled fingers to work himself open a little—all the while imagining they were the fingers that belonged to the delicious dark haired man of his dreams. Then, when Dan felt ready, he grabbed the stone cock and leaned over the desk he’d been working at all day. He pressed his face to his journal as he started to press the artifact inside himself. The stretch was so much—almost too much—and totally unrelenting. He hissed and tried to relax by wrapping his hand around himself and stroking.

And imagining that dark haired man, imagining all the colors that would be in his eyes… at least three.

That helped—that got him there—that got him feeling good. Got his heart beating fast, got that tremble in his knees.

Then, he started moving the rock, thrusting it in and pulling it back out, dragging it over that sparking spot inside him. His own cock was leaking and hard in the tight grip of his hand. He was barely thinking about the ethics of what he was doing, fucking himself with what was probably an important discovery, because— _fuck—_ he should be in the field with all this classmates not here. Though, for once, here didn’t seem so terrible.

Not when he was bent over this desk, imagining that the stone was flesh and blood connected to a firm body with its hands on Dan’s hips, a firm body with a good head on its shoulders that loved to laugh and preferred Leslie Hutchinson to Al Bowlly too.

Dan could feel himself growing closer, could feel those sparks turning into fire, like friction and flint. He was going to come, right here on his own shoes, on the floor of the museum with a stone cock carved so long ago he could barely fathom it, and he even had qualifications in fathoming it.

His vision was blurred from that too much feeling, but it steadied, just for a moment, as he was balancing somewhere between stone cock reality and his dark haired dream man. To keep himself partially grounded in the moment, he focused on the large black letters stamped on the outside of the create.

P. H. I. L. — the Paleo-Historical International Library, one of the sponsors of the current excavation. P. H. I. L. PHIL. _Phil._

Dan had always thought Phil was a nice name, a strong name. _“_ Phil.” The word slipped out, a little breathy whimper as he pushed that enormous rock deeper inside, as he continued to squeeze and stroke and tug, as he continued to imagine he wasn’t alone, filled up with sedimentary rock. Faster and faster and dark hair, bright eyes, deep voice—“Fuck, fuck, _Phil! Phil!”_ he shouted, uselessly, ridiculously as he clenched around the artifact and spilled warm and wet all over his hand and the floor.

When Dan finally caught his breath, he slowly slipped the stone cock back out, leaving him feeling aching and empty. He’d have trouble sitting tomorrow, which was unfortunate because he likely had another long day ahead of him.

Dan wiped his hand off on his trousers, then pulled them back up. He stared down at the numbers in his journal, Length: 8.0 inches. Girth: 5.5 inches. God, it had been good. Best he’d had in a long, long time.

_Fuck it, again._

He grabbed his rubber and erased the data from the journal page. Then, Dan took the condom off and tossed it away in a bin where no one would find it, before placing the artifact, not with the other identified stones, but in his own briefcase.

It didn’t belong on a dusty museum shelf, it had been designed to be used and Dan was going to use it. And nobody… nobody would ever have to know because, unlike professor’s sons, rocks didn’t spill your secrets.

 

 


End file.
